


For Victory

by barefootxo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Coming to America (1998), NCIS, Stargate SG-1, V (1983), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alien Invasion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootxo/pseuds/barefootxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Visitors from another world come in with a smile and turn Earth into a police state, it's up to Xander Harris and his band of Resistance Fighters to keep Africa free. Answer to Challenge 737 on Twisting the Hellmouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Humble Carpenter

I do not own V, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. The ‘dedication’ is the same one used by V, the Original Miniseries, which I believed fitting for a V crossover…  
  
Time-line: Consider this the beginning of V, but taking place 20 years later then it originally started. This takes place Post-Season 7 for BtVS, Post-Season 4 for AtS, Pre-Stargate for Stargate and Pre-X-men for X-men…  
  
~~  
  
To the heroism of the Resistance Fighters  
\-- past, present and future --  
this work is respectfully dedicated…  
  
**  
  
If ever there was a continent that needed an exceptional Watcher to be there, that continent was Africa. Africa is a powder keg of poorly-drawn borders, religious conflicts, tribal rivalries, wild animals, and so much more. That is not to say that the continent has no stability, like any continent it has its stable areas and its unstable areas. Still, in no other continent of the world is there a tougher environment for a Watcher to function in. And so, the Council, in its typical lack of foresight had sent only three Watchers for the entire continent, two of whom were white.  
  
It is, perhaps, debatable whether the Council was just blatantly lucky, or simply brilliant in the three men they chose to run things.  
  
The first was Andrew Wells. Easily dismissed though he was as an unrepentant geek and obviously sent to Africa so that others could forget the short but painful trail of havoc that he caused whilst a member of the Trio. Still, as silly as he seemed, Andrew was an accomplished hacker and spell-caster, filling some awfully big holes that the other two Watchers couldn’t manage.  
  
The second was Sam Zabuto. Another supposed disgrace, Zabuto could only truly be accused of allowing Kendra, his former slayer, to cut herself off and hide in her studies. Alas, Kendra was a very good slayer in the technical sense. Still, the lack of passion within her allowed her to be cut down much too soon. Sam Zabuto had not wanted to return to the Watchers’ Council that had let his beloved slayer die. Nor, under normal circumstances, would the Council have wanted him back. It is the sudden lack of Watchers, due to the destruction of the old Council that required the Council to beg him to come back. It was the solemn and honest request of one of Kendra’s companions that caused Zabuto to return. Sam contributed wisdom, experience an unparalleled thirst for research, we had passed on to his short-lived slayer.  
  
The last was the man who recruited Zabuto to work Africa. He was a unique one, certainly. Often the object of scorn by his allies, earning cruel names like the Zeppo, he was, oddly enough, far more respected by his foes. It is said that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, once named him the slayer’s white knight. An emissary of the First Evil was even heard to claim that Xander Harris, the man in question, was the one who sees everything.  
  
Xander was, perhaps, not much to look at. Lanky and tall, with dark hair and only one eye left after the aforementioned emissary of the First Evil snuffed Harris’ other eye like a candle. Even his job was not something that many people seemed to look at with esteem anymore. A humble carpenter. A sad reflection when humble carpenters have been known to rise to heights that the so-called greats cannot begin to imagine. Still, it was Xander that brought it all together. The one-eyed carpenter was the one who outfitted their arsenal, led the slayers in combat and comforted them when they needed it. Always there with a kind word, a poor joke or a gentle smile for his slayers.  
  
It was not long after Xander came to Africa that he took up the art of blacksmithing. With things constantly getting lost in the shuffle at the Council and Africa being a particularly temperamental continent under the best of circumstances and even ignoring the demon population. And so, tired of waiting to get the weapons he needed from the Council, Xander found a local who knew the craft well enough and charged little enough that Xander could learn the trade. Xander had even taken it a step further, making all of his slayers learn the art of both making, stringing, aiming and firing a longbow. A longbow might seem unsophisticated next to a crossbow, but some major advantages were to be had. The first was that it was easier to make and maintain. The second, and most important, was that it was far faster to reload, which saved lives in combat.  
  
It is, perhaps, interesting to know that until the day in question Xander had never made himself a weapon at the forge. Everyone else had been given a personalised weapon by Xander by this point. The problem, you see, was that until the day in question Xander had been uncertain of what sort of a blade might work well for him. His choice, when he had made it, was the source of much amusement among his slayers and, in fact, among all those who knew him. It is, perhaps, ironic that the man in the eye-patch would decide to make a cutlass his blade of choice.  
  
And so it was that on the day in question, Xander Harris raised his cutlass to the sky and checked it carefully for imperfections. It was a beautiful work, the smooth and slightly curving blade of iron and silver, projecting forth from a guard of polished titanium, mounted on a solid iron grip that had somehow taken the colour of polished obsidian. He named it Anubis.  
  
It is at that moment that a shadow fell over Xander’s heart, matching the unnatural shadow that was falling over Alexandria in the full light of day. Xander looked up to see a gigantic saucer flying swiftly overhead, heading for Cairo.  
  
“Xander!!” The man spun to find a breathless Rona, running to him at top speed. It was unusual to see a slayer breathing so hard, making Xander wonder just how far she had run from.  
  
“Yes Rona?” he asked softly, laying his new blade on his forge and walking over to her.  
  
“Have you seen it?” she asked, knowing that if he had then no further description was necessary…  
  
“Yes,” he said evasively, “I’ve seen it…”  
  
“Do you have any idea what it is?”  
  
Rona was looking panicky. Xander couldn’t really blame her. The girl was born to fight the creatures of the night. Honking great spaceships just weren’t her thing. Not really… Speaking of which, Andrew would likely be in nigh-orgasmic glee right about now. Xander grimaced at the very thought of it. “I hope not Rona. At the moment, I would really love to have no clue…”  
  
~~  
  
Jasper


	2. Just Visiting? Yeah Right!

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM and Marvel Comics respectively...  
  
I'm being a touch scant on details from V at the moment because I don't want to rehash all of John and Kristine Walsh's speeches word for word. Please inform me if you are confused at any point...  
  
~~  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Alexandria  
August 15th 2004_**  
  
“Silence.” The soft spoken voice of Sam Zabuto seemed to cut a swath through the crowd of slayers, causing them to shut up and part so that Sam could meet up with the newly-arrived Xander. “You have seen it I presume.”  
  
Xander nodded. “Yes Sam, I’ve seen it. Anything on the news so far?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “Nothing so far but confusion. There are around fifty, moving into positions all over the world.”  
  
Xander nodded as if that explained everything. Or, to his mind, everything of relevance. “Andrew?”  
  
The third watcher perked up with an almost puppyish eagerness. “Xand?”  
  
Xander stared long and hard at Andrew. He could already almost smell the eagerness to meet extra-terrestrials mounting in Andrew. “Remember Independence Day?”  
  
Andrew blanched. He was not a geek for nothing. He caught the reference all too well. “Yes, sir.”  
  
Xander nodded, content. “Good. Get word to all of our roving slayers throughout the continent. I want all of our weapons stashes shifted to the alternate locations we discussed. No reports are to be made to the main Council nor will any records be made of the order at this location. As of this moment, Africa is going on yellow alert. All slayers are to watch themselves. I also want all of our slayers in Cairo, Lagos and Capetown to evacuate just in case these aliens watched Independence Day too. Rona?”  
  
“Sir.” Rona stood to attention and flipped a mocking salute.  
  
Xander glared playfully at her. “Har de har, Ro. I want you to get to the Giza Plateau post haste. Find Jackson. I want him in house before the kickoff. Capisce?”  
  
“Aye aye, Cap’n…”  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me take the flat of my cutlass to your backside, slayer.”  
  
Rona gave him a molten look that made Xander nervous. She smirked broadly at his discomfort. “Bye Cap’n…”  
  
Xander sighed, turning to Sam. “I can’t get any respect.”  
  
Sam merely laughed at him… The traitor…  
  
**  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Alexandria  
August 16th 2004_**  
  
Exclamations of relief were heard all through the headquarters as the slayers in house heard John informing them that they came in peace. Everyone in the place seemed utterly relieved by the comforting declarations. Everyone, that is, except Xander. In stark contrast to the rest of the building, he appeared to be gravely disturbed by what he’d heard.  
  
Rona looked at Xander curiously, wondering what was up. “You want us to stand down from yellow alert, Cap’n?”  
  
Xander shook his head. “Return the slayers to the major cities and have them blend for now. Do not, however, stand down from yellow alert. Do not report the changes in our weapons caches to London. Also, I want word sent to all slayers throughout the continent. I want a dozen new safe-houses scouted and prepared without notifying London. I don’t like this at all. It stinks of treachery. Go to it. Sam, Dr. J. We need to talk.”  
  
The slayers nodded and went about their business. It had taken a long time to get over the Scooby-induced to treat Xander as if he knew nothing, but after his insights had saved lives a few times and a particularly willful slayer had lost her life because she walked into a trap Xander had warned her of, the slayers of Africa had learned to take Xander seriously.  
  
Sam frowned as Dr. Jackson, Xander and he entered the war room. “Why no Andrew.”  
  
Xander shrugged. “Andrew is needed to help the less tech-oriented slayers get the word out about their orders. As for this meeting, I’m looking to get your insights. I’ll pick Andrew’s brain later.”  
  
Daniel frowned. “I don’t like it either. There’s something a touch odd about aliens that look exactly like us. The odds of their evolutionary pattern being that similar are pretty low. And the odd sensitivity to light suggests that at least their eyes are not the same. I can’t really make any conclusions you understand. My specialty is in linguistics rather then anthropology.”  
  
Xander nodded. “Sam?”  
  
Sam seemed less certain. “I don’t know what it is, but something struck me as wrong with this whole meet and greet. It’s just a feeling, though.”  
  
Xander let out an uncharacteristic snarl. Being in Africa had tended to magnify his hyena traits further, usually resulting in Xander’s protectiveness of his pack going into overdrive whilst on the hunt. “I’ll give you a hint, Sam. If you were in the position that those aliens supposedly are. That being a technologically superior race that just wants to make friends, then what the heck was with them putting a saucer over every major city in the world and staging a countdown prior to sending their transmission.”  
  
Daniel shrugged. “They explained that they needed the saucers in position to make use of our water. Most of our major cities tend to be coastal. As for the countdown, that was to synchronise the transmission.”  
  
Xander shook his head. “Bull. That was an intimidation tactic if I ever saw one. Any advanced species worth their salt would have gone in with a small, non-intimidating shuttle like John used to get down to the surface. If they’re only atmospheric then they could have brought just one saucer in. By setting things up the way they did, they built up international hysteria beautifully. Then, once they make the big reveal, everyone is so happy that they come in peace that they’re not looking too hard and letting their guards down. You mark my words and mark them good gentlemen. This stinks of deception and before we’re done, we’re going to see these ‘visitors’ aren’t as sweet as they seem…  
  
Daniel and Sam nodded grimly…  
  
~~  
  
  
Jasper


	3. Watching, Listening and Observing

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM and Marvel Comics respectively...  
  
  
~~  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Alexandria  
August 23rd 2004_**  
  
Xander sipped at a bottle of water, attempting to calm the rumble of discontent in his stomach. It had been a week since the speech that had announced to the world that life on other planets existed once and for all. On the surface, everything appeared to be just wonderful, but Xander found that he was still carefully doctoring his reports to the London office. He couldn’t help it. He knew something was wrong and he was determined not to reveal his cards.  
  
He still recalled his bi-weekly chat with Giles, which had occurred on the 20th. Giles had gone on and on, explaining that things were going wonderfully. Giles had even mentioned a prophecy about people from beyond the stars that sounded light and hopeful. Xander grimaced. Prophecies were never hopeful. They were gloomy and unpleasant, usually offering a faint sliver of hope, but still awful. Even Angel’s precious Shanshu prophecy hadn’t turned out very nice as things had gone on. No, Xander was sure that no matter how pleasant this appeared, something stank.  
  
This, of course, brought Xander to his newest big problem. Tomorrow, Xander was going to be playing host to Nelson. Nelson was going to be the Visitor liaison to the African Watchers. Xander snarled in utter disgust. He couldn’t believe that he was the only one to see that the Visitors were dipping into things that made no sense. The factories to make this chemical made some sense, but why would the Visitors need access to the Watchers’ Council if all they wanted was a simple exchange. Xander somehow doubted that all the fruits of their knowledge include vampire slaying methods.  
  
A buzz sounded at Xander’s door. “Come in Andrew…”  
  
The door opened and Andrew walked in to find Xander calmly writing notes about something at his desk. “How’d you know it was me, Xand?”  
  
Xander finally looked up and smiled. “What time did I ask you to be here, Andrew?”  
  
Andrew looked distinctly nervous, as if wondering if he was late. “9:00 sharp?” Andrew muttered, somewhat nervously.”  
  
Xander nodded benignly, trying to put Andrew at ease. The guy was still very touchy because of his ‘fall to the dark side’. “Exactly so Andrew. And what time is it currently?”  
  
Andrew’s voice was filled with hesitation. “9:00?”  
  
Xander grinned widely. “Yes, Andrew.”  
  
Andrew’s eyes widened slightly as realisation came, followed quickly by a faint embarrassment. “Someone was here when I’m supposed to be and so you just assumed it was me.” Andrew’s voice was firmer now, a touch more sure of his response.  
  
Xander nodded amiably. “Yep. Now, what are we here to talk about?”  
  
Andrew sat straighter in his chair, carefully considering the question. Xander had taken to forcing Andrew into using critical thinking more often these days, having learned a bit about it from Zabuto. Xander was a strong believer in the process now, preferring to let his slayers, and Andrew, think things out on their own when possible.  
  
“It can’t be a personnel review. That’s scheduled for the beginning of the month, barring any major incidents. Since I haven’t been involved in any major incidents, that is right out…  
  
“It probably isn’t a demonic issue, since we’ve mostly been dealing with standard slice and dice this week, so that’s out too…  
  
“You probably want to talk about the Visitors. They’re the only real issue I can think of that you might need to talk to me for.”  
  
Xander smiled. “Excellent deduction, Andrew. You’re getting better at that.” Andrew puffed out at the declaration. “Andrew, outside of me, you are our most accomplished sci-fi nerd here…” Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his seat. An opening like that had almost always been a prelude to mocking for him. “That makes you uniquely qualified to evaluate the Visitors. I want you to tell me what seems off to you…”  
  
Andrew looked up in mild shock. It was a rare thing indeed for him to be solicited for the sole purpose of talking sci-fi. He allowed a broad grin to cross his lips. This was, after all, his element.  
  
“Okay, you mentioned before the fact that their initial approach reeked of _Independence Day_. I’ve reviewed the movie and we were right. The approach was almost identical, right down to using a count-down. Now since they already claimed to have watched our media to understand our language, I’ve got to assume that they saw that movie and used it’s approach style in order to generate additional hysteria.”  
  
Xander smirked. “I thought as much. Glad to see we agree.”  
  
Andrew nodded. He had figured Xander would already have thought of that one, but had felt that it bore repeating. “I can’t say that it relates to sci-fi per se, but that chemical they’re making sounds awful suspicious. I mean, these Visitors are supposedly similar to us in almost every way, right? Then why the hell do they need a chemical made from what is essentially toxic waste? It doesn’t fly well, Xand. Either their biology is insanely different from ours, or that chemical is a fairy tale that they are weaving in order to do something else.”  
  
Xander’s lips twisted in a frown. “I agree. Tell me, Andrew, what would you say if I told you that we are scheduled to have a Visitor come here, starting tomorrow, to act as our liaison to the Visitors.”  
  
Andrew worked very hard at quelling the fanboy squee that had welled up in him at that declaration. He had worked damned hard to get Xander to take him seriously, and he knew that he had to think it through properly or he might forfeit that hard-won respect. It was that introspection that led to Andrew considering why such a thing would be needed. “Why do the Watchers’ Council need a liaison with the Visitors?” A hard knot of suspicion began to form. “This is about control, isn’t it? They’re trying to take control. It’s subtle, but it’s there.”  
  
Xander’s lips peeled back in a feral grin. “And if I told you that Giles told me that this was a wonderful idea and that it even says the Visitors will basically bring about a new golden age?”  
  
Andrew’s frown deepened. He couldn’t help jumping to a conclusion, but in this case it only made sense. “Giles guards the secrets of the Watchers’ Council very jealously, Xand. If he’s spouting crap like that I can’t help but believe he’s been compromised, which essentially means that all of the Watchers’ Council is compromised.”  
  
Xander’s eyes glinted with a predatory light that screamed out his agreement. “Your conclusions?”  
  
Andrew paused. Whatever they did was going to have to be extreme. But what to do? “I’d suggest we broadcast an immediate red alert to all Watcher posts, around the world, informing them that the head office has been compromised and that the Visitors are trying to stage a takeover. I’d then follow up by ordering all of Africa’s Slayers and Watchers to go to ground.”  
  
Xander nodded with a feigned calm. “I agree with all of your suggestions and I intend to add a few amendments of my own. Let’s go get Sam and Rona, Andrew. They’ll need to be in the loop.” With that the two Watchers left Xander’s office, both plotting away. Nelson was in for a rude introduction tomorrow morning…  
  
**  
  
  
This chapter is, unfortunately mostly filler before the kickoff occurs. Nelson can expect a warm welcome tomorrow...  
  
Jasper


	4. A Warm Welcome and a Warmer Goodbye

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM and Marvel Comics respectively...  
  
  
  
~~  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Alexandria  
August 24th 2004_**  
  
Nelson smiled at the pristine building before his eyes. He had been assigned bu Saul himself, the Visitor commander of the African forces, to infiltrate and gradually take over this particular Watcher post. According to Rupert Giles, the Watcher in charge of African operations was a suspicious little Earthling, but Nelson was quite confident that he could charm the pathetic human.  
  
Nelson had studied Alexander Harris’ profile extensively and had come away from it unimpressed. Harris was a marginal warrior at best who seemed incapable of keeping a mate for any length of time. Harris’ lack of one eye meant that the man had likely risen to new heights of uselessness. Frankly, Nelson was shocked that Alexander was even still alive. All reports indicated that the young man had survived on what could only be called preternatural good luck.  
  
Nelson straightened his uniform jacket, proudly displaying the reverse triangle symbol on his armband, which denoted his status as a Visitor. The original symbol that they had intended to use on the armband had been vetoed by John due to its unfortunate resemblance to the swastika. Apparently John had felt that the symbol would make people think of the Nazi party, and that just wouldn’t do at all. They would lose many valuable meals in a war with the humans. Much better to let the humans surrender voluntarily. Nelson grinned as he remembered Saul’s words to him just prior to leaving. ‘Sidle up and smile. Hit them where they’re weak.’ Nelson would not forget.  
  
As he slipped through the door of the Council Headquarters, Nelson could not help but frown. There was no one here to meet him. A sneer crossed his face. Harris would pay very dearly for that little slight. Nelson had not come all this way to be snubbed by some nobody. He turned to the dozen armed troops that had accompanied him as an entourage. “Find Mr. Harris, now!”  
  
The troops hopped to it. Oh yes. Harris was going to get quite a torture session before his stop in the conversion chamber. Nelson hated being kept waiting.  
  
**  
  
 ** _Command Mothership, Over London  
August 24th 2004_**  
  
John, Supreme Commander of the Visitor Starfleet smiled benignly at the head of the Watchers’ Council. “Rupert! It’s excellent to see you again. Have your liaisons worked out so far?”  
  
Rupert Giles had been one tough nut to crack. Apparently the man had been quite the person in his salad days. Over the course of a full week of exhaustive work, Diana had finally managed to make a breakthrough in the process, using his memories of a woman named Jenny against him. Now he was theirs, whether he knew it or not. He honestly believed that prophecies had foretold the coming of the Visitors and of the glory it would bring to Giles’ organisation.  
  
Giles smiled brightly in response to the Supreme Commander’s enthusiastic greeting. “Yes Sir. I’m happy to say that the South American, North American, European and Australian liaison officers you have sent are working out splendidly thus far. With your help, I’m rather hopeful that we’ll be able to take back the night, once and for all.”  
  
John did not even have to fake enthusiasm for that prospect. It really wouldn’t do for those distasteful undead things to be allowed to eat humanity. The Visitors had called dibs, after all. And goodness knew that vampires literally turned to ashes on one’s tongue. Truly unpleasant. “I look forward to the day when your world too can be free of that plague, Rupert. Still, what news of Asia and Africa? You didn’t mention them at all.”  
  
Giles shrugged unconcernedly. “Asia is a large continent with a truly massive population, Commander. It will take them longer then most to get properly established. I expect to hear from the Asian liaisons in a day or two at most. Until then I wouldn’t be inclined to worry.”  
  
“And Africa?”  
  
Giles felt a strange reluctance to discuss Africa with John, but then managed to get control of himself again. Such a feeling was absurd. This was John. If he couldn’t trust the Supreme Command of the Visitor Fleet then who could he trust? “Africa is probably the most unstable continent on this planet in terms of social and political makeup, Sir. In addition, it is relatively understaffed since the continent is not a popular locale. It may take longer then most because of that. Like Asia, I expect to hear from them in a few days at most.”  
  
John beamed at Giles. “Excellent work Rupert. Do inform me when the liaisons are all well established.”  
  
Giles nodded. “Of course, Sir.” But as Giles walked away from John, he felt an odd stirring in his gut. Something was telling him that Xander was going to be difficult about the liaison. He really should have mentioned that concern to John. He had no idea why he had held that gut feeling back. Perhaps because he felt the feeling was false? Yes, that had to be it…  
  
**  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Alexandria  
August 24th 2004_**  
  
Nelson frowned as he looked about the kitchen of the Watcher Headquarters. Plates were out and a half-eaten meal was in evidence. He couldn’t decide what might have happened to the group, but it appeared as if they had been scared off suddenly.  
  
The Visitor considered the issue seriously. He doubted they were running from him. If the Watchers had meant to do that they would have left in much less of a hurry. That suggested that perhaps a demon had gotten into the compound. Nelson allowed a sneer to cross his face. Typical of Harris, quite likely. He so did look forward to grinding the one-eyed buffoon under his heel.  
  
As Nelson considered how best to handle Xander, one of his guards ran in. “Sir?”  
  
Nelson glanced up at the trooper. “What is it, Raymond?”  
  
Raymond snapped to attention. “Sir. The computer in the Operations Centre is talking, Sir.”  
  
Nelson sighed. “And what is it saying, Raymond?”  
  
Raymond shrugged expressively. “I haven’t the foggiest, Sir. It’s not in a language I’m familiar with.”  
  
Nelson frowned. Raymond had made an extensive study of linguistics. He was familiar with a wide assortment of languages, including most of those inherent to Africa and a significant portion of the demonic languages as well. For Raymond not to recognise the language was incredibly unnerving. “Bring me there.”  
  
Raymond snapped a quick salute and lead his current boss to the Operations Centre.  
  
Nelson stood in the doorway and listened carefully to the language that was being recited by the terminal.  
  
‘MaH… Hut… chorgh…’  
  
Something about the language tickled at his memory, trying desperately to come to the surface. Now what was it?  
  
‘Soch… jav… vagh… loS…’  
  
It sounded like a language that he’d briefly heard whilst looking at the popular media of the United States briefly. But more then that would not come. It was at that moment that the translation of the last few words came up whilst they were still being recited in the mystery language.  
  
‘Wej (three)… cha (two)…’  
  
Nelson’s eyes widened as realisation hit him like a squad vehicle. “Get out! Get out now!!” He shouted, even as he lead the charge towards the nearest exit.  
  
‘Wa’ (one)… pagh (zero)…’  
  
As Nelson heard the faint sound of the Klingon word for zero, echoing behind him, he heard the beginnings of a massive explosion which overtook him moments later. No bodies were ever recovered from the destruction of the Watcher Headquarters building in Africa. All of the Visitors involved perished.  
  
**  
  
 ** _African Watcher Secret Auxiliary Headquarters, Rosetta  
August 24th 2004_**  
  
Xander stared deep into the monitor that had formerly displayed the Operations Centre of their former headquarters. Now all that the monitor displayed was snow.  
  
Xander turned to Andrew with a seemingly solemn expression. “My God, Andrew… What have I done?”  
  
Andrew’s lips twitched, recognising the cue as only a fellow geek can. “What you had to do… What you always do… Turn death into a fighting chance to live.”*  
  
Rona rolled her eyes in exasperation at their playacting. She turned to Zabuto and said in the steadiest voice she could muster. “We need to get them laid, urgently. Otherwise we’re going to lose them to a sci fi convention or something.”  
  
Howling laughter was the only response she received.  
  
~~  
  
*The quotes that Andrew and Xander paraphrase are from Star Trek III: The Search for Spock; I don't own that either... It belongs to Gene Rodenberry...  
  
  
Jasper


	5. Martyr for the Cause?

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM and Marvel Comics respectively...  
  
  
~~  
  
 ** _Special News Bulletin  
August 25th 2004_**  
  
Kristine Walsh straightened her posture as she stared fixedly at the camera before her. This was an important announcement and it wouldn’t do for her to look anything but her best.  
  
“This is Kristine Walsh, here to provide you with a special news bulletin. This reporter has just been informed by John, the Visitors Supreme Commander, that a terrorist attack on a corporate headquarters building in Alexandria occurred just last night. Thirteen Visitors were rumoured to have been killed in the blast, along with the corporate CEO, Alexander Harris, and numerous innocent civilians.  
  
“Alexander Harris, an American philanthropist, was the founder of the Anya Jenkins School which provides quality education for many of the underprivileged girls in Africa. His death occurs on the heels of an agreement he had with the Visitors for the Anya Jenkins school to be one of the first to benefit from additional education my our new friends. Unfortunately, the death of Mr. Harris and numerous Visitors at this terror attack have set back these efforts by a month…”  
  
 ** _African Watcher Headquarters, Rosetta  
August 25th 2004_**  
  
All of the Slayers and Watchers glared at the television as Kristine Walsh spun the load of crap that the Visitors had apparently spoon-fed to her. As the world spokesperson for the Visitors extolled the virtues of the supposedly dead Xander, Andrew couldn’t help but smirk. “Xander? Ya dead?”  
  
Xander’s eyes shone with an unholy light. “Yah, mon!”*  
  
Numerous people groaned, none louder then Rona. Harris and Wells delighted in quoting movies like that, whether it was appropriate or not.  
  
Xander considered the television carefully as he plotted their next move. “Its interesting. They must truly believe I’m dead. I can’t believe that be making me out into a saint if they actually thought I’d committed that little act there, right.”  
  
Zabuto nodded gravely. “Agreed. The question is why they are extolling your virtues like this? Not to say that you aren’t a good person, Xander, but they are talking about you like you should be up for a sainthood or something.”  
  
Xander’s eyes narrowed at that proclamation. “You’re right. They are being way to nice about me, not even focusing on their own so much. That’s not logical at all…”  
  
“Yes it is, actually.” Everybody spun to look at Rona.  
  
Xander arched a brow at the Slayer. “We’re listening, Ro…”  
  
The girl grinned in response. “They’re being clever buggers. Nobody is gonna give a damn about a few dead Visitors. Why would we? We barely know them, after all. A fellow human, though? Especially a human who is being portrayed as basically being portrayed as the best thing to hit this planet since Mother Theresa? You’re being turned into a martyr, Cap’n. First they build up your popularity and the world outrage over your death nicely and then they’ll do a big reveal that will offer a target for that rage.”  
  
Xander smiled at Rona proudly. “Well done, Ro. Excellent analysis. The question before us then is where the Visitors will target this public outrage? Any takers?”  
  
Zabuto frowned thoughtfully. “It would have to be someone or a group of someones that they could tie to us.”  
  
Andrew nodded in response to that. “It would also have to be someone that they would personally wanted to see destroyed or carefully controlled. So someone who could do real damage to the visitors.”  
  
Sam shook his head in frustration. “We’ll have to do some research and try to come up with some answers.”  
  
Xander froze at the phrasing. “No need, Sam. I think you may have accidentally hit upon it yourself.” Everyone looked on in confusion. “You all remember when our new best pals got here before. There were some fighter jets that attempted to lock missiles on the Motherships in America that couldn’t even manage to get a hit in.”  
  
Rona shrugged at that. “So?”  
  
Xander smirked in that irritating way that he knew pissed her off. “What does that tell you?”  
  
Silence reigned for a moment before Andrew ventured. “That we’re thoroughly outmatched. That we’re essentially screwed?”  
  
Xander nodded. “Yes and no. What it means is that we do not currently have the means to do much to the Visitors. The question then becomes, how does one develop the means…”  
  
“Through research and studies and experimentation and…” Zabuto paused as he began to catch on. “Scientists. Medical Doctors, Anthropologists, Biochemists, Engineers… Basically anyone with a heavy educational background.”  
  
Xander inclined his head solemnly. “That’s why they are planting moles in the Watchers’ Council. The Watchers’ Council is probably the home of the largest concentration of highly militant and educated people on the planet. To be a Watcher you must almost always have an extensive knowledge of linguistics, mythological history, magic, computers… something. Hell, I am probably the least educated Watcher on this planet right now, and even I know a fair bit of demonology. So basically, they’re going to use a prominent scientist that can be associated with us as their scapegoat.”  
  
Rona frowned. “Giles? Or perhaps Willow… or Dawnie?”  
  
Xander shook his head. “No. Giles is already compromised and Willow and Dawnie are either compromised or under the supervision of those damned liaisons. No, it has to be someone that’s more free to act then them…”  
  
“Daniel…”  
  
The name tripped off the tongue of too many people at once. He was the logical choice. An accomplished linguist with strong ties to the Archaeological and Anthropological community, Daniel was a perfect scapegoat to be used as the backbone of a conspiracy. Xander snarled in frustration. “Get him out. Get him out, now. He’s in Giza.”  
  
Rona didn’t even offer a nod, simply grabbing Shira and bolting out the door.  
  
Xander turned to stare at the hated face of Kristine Walsh on the television. “Hold on Daniel. We’re coming for you…”  
  
~~  
  
*The quotes that Andrew and Xander paraphrase are from Cool Runnings; I don't own that either... It belongs to Jon Turteltaub...  
  
  
Jasper


	6. Tightening the Grip

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1 or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM and Marvel Comics respectively...  
  
  
~~  
  
 ** _NORAD, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado  
August 26th 2004_**  
  
Catherine Langford looked up at the commotion that had broken out in the military complex that was located not far from her location. A blast flashed out, sending Captain Charles Kawalsky skidding across the floor, his face twisted with pain. She then observed a Visitor pointing to the captain and directing two subordinates to drag the poor man away.  
  
The Visitor strolled up to Catherine casually, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about what had just happened. The thought both soothed and frightened her. “You are Dr. Catherine Langford?”  
  
Catherine hesitated briefly, but decided that denying it would be futile. “Yes, I am. And you are?”  
  
“In a hurry, Doctor.” She pointed at Langford’s two associates. “Those two are Dr. Meyers and Dr. Shore, are they not?”  
  
Langford nodded, beginning to hope that this Visitor was perhaps a liaison to help them figure out this… Doorway to Heaven. “They are.”  
  
The Visitor smiled broadly. “Excellent. You will be escorted to the Los Angeles Mothership. There you will be debriefed on what our finest scientists have discovered concerning these rings.”  
  
Langford allowed a friendly grin to cross her face. “There are others, then? I’d hoped that was the case.”  
  
The Visitor nodded an acknowledgment. That minor detail was unimportant. Besides, Langford would be telling anyone. “Shall we go now, Doctor?”  
  
It occurred to Langford very briefly, to wonder why Kawalsky had been shot. Still, perhaps the military didn’t want the Visitors telling the scientists anything. The military did like to be in control. She shrugged it off and followed the unnamed Visitor. It would be the last time Doctors Langford, Meyers or Shore would ever be seen again.  
  
**  
  
 ** _Los Angeles Mothership  
August 26th 2004_**  
  
John appeared on the viewscreen. “What news, Diana?”  
  
Diana smirked a reptilian smile at her leader. “Victory, John. The Giza Stargate was in Cheyenne Mountain, as intelligence suggested. The three doctors that were in charge of deciphering the gate have been placed in the final area.”  
  
“Would it not be wiser to gather intelligence from them first, concerning the gate?”  
  
Diana shook her head. “They never managed to even activate it, John. They know nothing of any value to us. I felt it was better to get them stored away. After all, they might not be useful to us, but knowledge of the gate’s existence could be useful to the humans.”  
  
John nodded a solemn acknowledgment. “Agreed. They will serve us better in the final area. And the military group there?”  
  
Diana smirked with accomplishment. NORAD is ours. Their commander, along with General West, are currently being converted. A Major Kawalsky resisted our takeover, but has been dealt with. I am debating between conversion and the final area, for him.”  
  
John really couldn’t care less about one Major in the United States Air Force. “Convert him on your own time, if you like, Diana. Focus on the important people first.”  
  
“Of course, John.”  
  
“You will contact me again if you have anything new to report.” It was not a request.  
  
“I shall.”  
  
**  
  
 ** _Buenos Aires Mothership  
August 26th 2004_**  
  
“Morena, what news of the Red Witch?”  
  
Morena, Commander of the Buenos Aires Mothership, faced the viewscreen. “Hello, Diana. I was expecting John.”  
  
“John has delegated scientific projects, including conversion, to me, Morena.”  
  
Morena nodded in confirmation. “I am aware, Diana. However, I do not intend to send the Red Witch to you for conversion.”  
  
Diana’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Rosenberg is reputed to be very powerful, Morena. She could be a very useful ally in quelling resistance.”  
  
“Agreed. The problem stems from her power. It is unclear how her abilities would affect your conversion process. My opinion is that our lack of information could cause complications in the process that might cause her to be unusually resistant.”  
  
Diana frowned, but did not immediately reply. She did not like people pointing out the flaws in her conversion process. Still, she did not disagree. Willow Rosenberg was a powerful and dangerous individual. They probably could not risk converting her. “The final area, then?”  
  
Morena nodded. “It seemed the only way to make use of her safely, Diana.”  
  
“Agreed. And the slayer… Kennedy, was it?”  
  
“Kennedy Colson is on her way to you for conversion, Diana.”  
  
“Excellent.”  
  
**  
  
 ** _Giza Plateau  
August 26th 2004_**  
  
Doctor Daniel Jackson was transcribing another piece of text when he heard someone walk up behind him. “Dr. Daniel Jackson?”  
  
Daniel turned to see a Visitor was standing behind him. “And you are?”  
  
The Visitor smirked condescendingly. “Arresting you, Doctor. You are wanted for the murder of Alexander Harris and countless innocent civilians. Did you really think no one would know about your jealousy of Harris’ staff? They were considered some of the finest in their fields, whilst you are considered something of a joke.”  
  
Daniel frowned. “Xander was a dear friend, Sir. I would never be involved in his death. Besides, I’m a linguist. I have no knowledge of how to make a bomb.”  
  
The Visitor’s smile broadened. “I never said it was a bomb that killed Harris.”  
  
Daniel was getting desperate. “It was mentioned in the followup news reports.”  
  
“That’s what they all say, Doctor. You’re coming with us.”  
  
As Daniel was being grabbed by one of the Visitor’s associates, a loud screeching noise sounded as a jeep barreled into the area.  
  
With the Visitors distracted by the noise, Daniel slammed hard into one of them, managing to get loose. His association with slayers had taught him only a bit of hand-to-hand, but it was enough to get loose from the unprepared Visitors.  
  
Daniel dodged aside as the jeep slammed into his three Visitor captors, killing two and crippling the third.  
  
One of the slayers, Shira, leaped out and stabbed the survivor in the chest, causing ichor to spurt from the wounds. She stared closely at the bodies. This was very interesting. “Rona.”  
  
Rona got out of the car rapidly and noted the reptilian features that were uncovered by the skin-tearing impact of a fast-moving jeep. Her jaw set. “Shira, put one of the bodies into the jeep’s trunk. Whichever one is least damaged.”  
  
“And the others?”  
  
“Burn them beyond recognition, Shira. We can’t let it be known that we know anything yet.” Rona then turned to the horrified Dr. Jackson. Daniel wasn’t very experienced with combat or death. “Come on, Dr. J. We need to get you out of here before anyone realises those three are gone.”  
  
Daniel nodded slightly. “Right. Let’s go, Rona. Where to?”  
  
~~  
  
Jasper


	7. Fugitives and Freedom Fighters

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1, X-men or NCIS. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM, Marvel Comics and Donald P. Bellisario respectively...  
  
~~  
  
 _ **A Dark Alley, Sofia  
August 27th 2004**_  
  
Scott Summers leaned tiredly against an alley wall, trying desperately to catch his breath. Scott was a man that firmly believed that being in good shape was essential to being an effective member of society. Unfortunately for him that did not make him a marathon runner. He glanced over at his erstwhile traveling companion. “You okay there, Dawn?”  
  
The brunette in question nodded firmly as she too fought to regain her wind. She and Scott had been on the run for almost a week now. “Yeah, I’m good.”  
  
Scott sighed softly. It had seemed like such a wonderful idea at the time. Cross the ocean, visit Europe and meet his long-lost cousins, Buffy and Dawn. He hadn’t seen either of them since Dawn was just a little baby.  
  
His visit with Buffy in Rome had gone fine. She had shown him the sights, he had put up with a few shopping trips… It had been nice enough. Granted, he and his cousin didn’t have much in common, but that had been okay.  
  
Then he had gone to visit Dawn in Bucharest. The start of the visit had been everything he’d ever dreamed of. Dawn was much more into the same subjects that Scott was into. It was great. It was wonderful. It was over much too soon.  
  
The saucers over many of the planets major cities had been terrifying. The aftermath of John’s speech had been a relief. The weeks that followed had been a living nightmare. Scott and Dawn had watched helplessly as Dawn’s organisation had steadily been usurped. Dawn, only considered a researcher by the Branch Head, Robin Wood, had been ignored when she suggested things weren’t adding up. Scott and Dawn had escaped just ahead of the arrival of the Eastern European ‘Liaison Officer’. They had been pursued ever since.  
  
Scott didn’t dare try to call Professor Xavier at this point. He wouldn’t put it past the Visitors to bug the telephone grid. Such a call would draw attention to Charles and Jean. It would also light up his and Dawn’s location like a firecracker. Goodness knew the Visitors were even more keen on catching him after he proved that his gaze was deadly. “You’re sure Africa is the place to go?”  
  
Dawn smirked. “Definitely. Xander is a suspicious as they come. There’s no way he took this lying down, Scott. The only trouble we’ll have is finding him once we get there.”  
  
Scott smirked faintly. “We managed to get to Bulgaria without being caught, Dawn. I’d say that’s clear evidence that god is on our side. We’ll find them.”  
  
Dawn nodded with renewed determination. “We’d better get moving again. It won’t take too long for them to reacquire us if we stay in one place.”  
  
“I’m with you.”  
  
**  
  
 __ **African Watcher Headquarters, Rosetta  
August 27th 2004**  
  
Xander stared at the green, pebbly skin of the deceased Visitor that Rona and Shira had brought in and sighed. “Well, they’re definitely not as human as they like to pretend.”  
  
Daniel, trying desperately to ignore his rebellious stomach, eyed the body critically. “It’s definitely reptilian in nature. Similar to humans in general body shape and suchlike, but still definitely reptilian in origin. It really makes a lot of sense considering that these guys evolved on another planet. Even this much similarity to our species is surprising.”  
  
Xander nodded, consideringly. “Yes. Speculation?”  
  
Andrew prodded the body slightly and offered a broad grin. “The lovechild of a Cardassian and a Trandoshan?”  
  
Xander sighed heavily. “Useful speculation?”  
  
Andrew blushed crimson but quickly rallied. “They obviously didn’t want us to know what they really look like.”  
  
Zabuto nodded in agreement. “But couldn’t that be sloughed off as benign. Maybe they just did not want to be judged by how they look. We humans do have a rather long history of judging people by appearances.”  
  
Xander glanced about. “Rebuttals?”  
  
Rona’s lip curled in a half snarl. “They had to know that this would come out in long term interaction. It’s impossible that it wouldn’t happen.”  
  
“Agreed. So why do it anyway?”  
  
Rona considered. “Either they hoped that we’d have gotten used to them by the time we found out and they then hoped we’d be able to accept them…”  
  
“Or?”  
  
“Or for whatever reason they feel they only need to fool us for a fairly short while.”  
  
Andrew shuddered. “That’s fairly ominous, to say the least.”  
  
Xander smirked. “Agreed. Anything else?”  
  
Daniel broke back in. “Yes actually. Reptilian nature might suggest they’re cold-blooded. That means that extreme heat or cold might be handy as a weapon.”  
  
Xander nodded. “I suppose we’ll try heat first then…”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Xander just smirked in reply. “Because heat has been a tried and true weapon of humanity for many decades, Doctor J. Flame throwers, explosives, the list goes on. Cold-based weapons are much harder to come by.”  
  
Daniel nodded, acknowledging the point.  
  
Zabuto spoke up then. “Bright light might be useful too, given their proven sensitivity to that.  
  
Xander nodded distractedly. “Right. We’ll add that to our list of ideas. Okay, folks, we have a whole new ball game here. We’ve got a different type of invaders to kill and our traditional tactics aren't gonna cut it.”  
  
Rona nodded. “I suppose melee weapons and bows are gonna be of limited use against laser pistols and flying saucers.”  
  
“Exactly. Keep them handy, ‘cause we’re not gonna let the vamps overrun the planet either, but we’re gonna need to upgrade our weapons to something with a little more punch to deal with these Cardassian knock-offs.”  
  
Rona smirked eagerly. She loved new weapons dearly and didn’t have the phobia some slayers did about modern weapons. “You want me to call Kort?”  
  
Xander shook his head. “Hell no. That guy’s connected to the CIA. I’d stake my life on it. Anything we got through him would show up on official channels for our Visitor friends to discover. We want to deal with Black Rose. She’ll provide what we need.”  
  
Andrew winced. Black Rose had a nasty reputation. “And if she sells us out?”  
  
Xander’s smile was frighteningly feral. “Then she’ll be meeting La Grenouille in hell.”  
  
~~  
  
  
Jasper


	8. Is a Black Rose Still a Rose?

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, V, Stargate SG-1, X-men, NCIS or Coming to America. They belong to Joss Whedon, Kenneth Johnson, MGM, Marvel Comics, Donald Bellisario and John Landis respectively.  
  
  
~~  
  
 _Royal Palace, Zamunda  
September 10th, 2004_  
  
As he watched the orange-garbed Visitors surrounding the home he had lived his entire life in, King Jaffe Joffer contemplated the warning he had received from the Watcher Xander Harris over a week ago. Xander had sent a slayer to warn each of the smaller African kingdoms and dominions that the Visitors would soon likely be looking to them. “Your country is small and it is not particularly militant. That means you’re likely a low priority, but make no mistake… you are still a priority.”  
  
Many of the smaller kingdoms had scoffed at Xander’s warning. Jaffe knew better then they. Xander Harris was not prone to hyperbole. Because of this, Jaffe had prepared for this moment well. “Oha!” Jaffe’s loyal servant appeared by his side. “Sound the signal. Zamunda is about to fall. Once you have finished, join those who are evacuating.”  
  
For the first time in over two decades of flawless service, Oha hesitated. “My place is by your side, Your Majesty.”  
  
Jaffe stared at Oha for a long moment before nodding. “Do as you will then, my friend. But first, attend to your duty.”  
  
Oha bowed and walked away. Jaffe watched with pained eyes as the Visitors began firing upon his loyal guards. He could escape with the others. It would be so easy. Still, he would never do so. He had been King of Zamunda for most of his life and he fully intended to die upon the throne. His son, Akeem, and his daughter-in-law, Lisa, would be sufficient to keep the Zamundan Royal House alive. It was time for him to see Aoleon again.  
  
A Visitor, in an orange jumpsuit that offended Jaffe’s eyes, strolled into his throne room. The loud, echoing ring of the bell that signaled the evacuation broke the eerie silence. The Visitor either did not know what the bell meant or did not care. Jaffe was praying it was the former. “Your guards attacked us when we came to your palace, King Jaffe. I do not understand this. We, Visitors, come in peace.”  
  
Jaffe Joffer leveled a baleful stare at the invader in his palace. “Peace, you say? You, who come uninvited and unwanted into my home, come in peace? I think not. I think you come to destroy my people. I have heard soft whispers of what happened in Alexandria. You come to control. Perhaps you come to destroy. Certainly there is no peace in your heart.”  
  
The Visitor offered a seemingly benign smile. “I am called Saul, King Jaffe. I am sure we will be good friends. I have a friend named Diana who can make it so.”  
  
Jaffe bit down upon the capsule that he had prepared for this eventuality. A death’s head grin crossed the old man’s face. “I highly doubt that. I’ll be dead long before you can make me yours. Zamunda is not for you.”  
  
Saul’s serpentine smile did not waver. “We shall see, King Jaffe.”  
  
The death of King Jaffe Joffer was considered a tragedy. An international warrant was issued for Prince Akeem Joffer for his father’s murder.  
  
**  
  
 _Bunker 1138, Near Tripoli_  
September 12th, 2004  
  
The arms dealer known to others as Black Rose attempted to keep her expression blank as she stood in the descending elevator. No one in the arms community knew precisely how the slayers would react to the recent death of Xander Harris. The man was a very popular and very dangerous individual. She stole a glance at the slayer beside her. Rona was considered, according to her best intelligence, one of Xander’s most loyal warriors. There were even rumours that the two were sleeping together, though Rose believed the rumours to be false. Still, she was somewhat surprised to note that Rona had apparently survived Harris’ death. She had been sure that Rona would have died at his side.  
  
The opening of the elevator doors startled Black Rose from her deep thoughts. She proceeded forward, following the tunnels that Rona indicated, finally arriving in a meeting room. Things quickly became clear. Rose smiled faintly. “I’d heard you were dead. Apparently I need to fire my intelligence operatives.”  
  
A very much alive Xander Harris smirked at her. “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated*. It suits me, at this time, to let the Visitors think that I’m dead.”  
  
The arms dealer nodded agreeably. “Understandable. I hear they destroyed your school. That must have hurt you.”  
  
Xander calmly poured each of them a drink of water before answering. “I’d probably be angry if they had. I’m the one who destroyed the school… with a few of our Visitor… friends inside it. How’s business, Rosaleen?”  
  
The abrupt segue, combined with her real name, nearly caused the woman to flinch, but she was far too experienced for that. “Wherever did you hear that name, Mr. Harris?”  
  
The head of the African branch of the Watchers’ Council smiled faintly, showing no reaction to the use of his much disliked last name. “A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet**, eh Rosaleen? How’s business…?”  
  
Rose dropped it. She was currently in one of Xander’s own bases. “Business is good, actually. A lot of the more militant types are suspicious of the Visitors and are stockpiling.”  
  
Xander nodded. “That’s unsurprising. I would like to procure some weapons from you as well, Rosaleen. My slayers and I intend to do some hunting…”  
  
Black Rose raised her eyebrows faintly. “This is a departure from your previous party line, Alexander. I seem to recall you promising death and dishonour to every arms dealer foolish enough to get involved in the war between you and the demons. You also promised more of the same for any demons that procured advanced weapons.”  
  
“And I kept my promises, as you’ll recall.”  
  
The woman winced faintly. She remembered all too well what had resulted when La Grenouille had sold weapons to the Chupacabra Clan, despite Harris’ dire threats. The Chupacabras had been fire-bombed out of existence in a ‘training accident gone bad’. As for La Grenouille, he had been mysteriously killed on his own boat. Harris’ threat had been taken very seriously ever since. “Yes, so I’m sure you can understand my confusion now.”  
  
The man agreed. “I can understand. The reason I require firearms and such is that my slayers and I are setting our sights on much bigger game.”  
  
Understanding hit her. “The Visitors… Yes, I suppose you would need something more… potent, then your usual fare.”  
  
The one-eyed man smiled. “Exactly. I also require the utmost discretion.”  
  
The woman smiled. “I’m sure. But how do you know I won’t sell you out if they give me a better price?”  
  
Xander’s smile became brittle. “Three reasons, Rosaleen. The first is that you have nothing to offer the visitors except your client lists. You sell those and you are out of business. The second is that you want the Visitors gone as much as I do. They are already making travel more difficult in the west. The more they tighten their grip, the less able you are to do business.”  
  
Rose nodded her agreement. “And the third reason…?”  
  
“It comes down to who has the most fear, Rosaleen. It’s my fear of you selling me out, against your fear of what I will do to you if even one of my girls dies due to your treachery...”  
  
Rosaleen O’Malley***, better known to the arms community as Black Rose, fought to keep her face impassive as she once more considered the fate of her old competitor, La Grenouille. “I’m sure we can come to a fair arrangement…”  
  
~~  
  
* Mark Twain  
** William Shakespeare (Juliet Capulet in Romeo and Juliet)  
*** Black Rose (according to NCIS continuity) was supposed to be involved with the IRA. Hence, I went with an Irish name. This character is meant only to represent the fictional arms dealer 'Black Rose' and no one else.  
  
  
Jasper


End file.
